


Little Problem

by someoneplsloverobbierotten



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Bonding, Caretaking, De-aging, Gen, So hard, de-aged character, he's trying so hard ok u guys, possible sportarobbie endgame but we'll see!, robbie done hecked up, sportacus is Trying, the kids are angels and excellent big siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-07 08:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13431108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoneplsloverobbierotten/pseuds/someoneplsloverobbierotten
Summary: Due to Sportacus's inability to be in the right place at the right time (and Robbie's ability to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,) he's now in charge of a de-aged Robbie Rotten after one of the villain's schemes backfires. Parenting isn't exactly how the hero would describe it, but he's going to do his very best to take care of baby Robbie until he and the kids can turn him back to his normal age.If,they can turn him back.--------(Title and pairing may change!)





	1. Chapter 0.5

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little note to say that there may be some changes to this fic at some point! the skeleton of this fic has been almost completely written out, but i'm unsure whether or not it will be sportarobbie endgame due to the whole 'robbie is a baby thing'. if i can pull off writing it as well and as i hope i can then it will be! but if i cant do the relationship change/progression justice then it wont. (i hope that makes sense. basically if it comes off as weird then i'll keep it gen!)
> 
> i'm also not at all sold on the title of this fic, but i needed one to upload! so when ever i can think up a better one - if i can - i'll change it so look out for that!

Sometimes Robbie’s schemes don’t always go to plan. Sometimes the kids foil him before he even really begins, sometimes Sportacus stops him, sometimes Robbie’s disguise fails or Robbie accidentally stops himself by accidentally setting off his own trap. Sometimes it’s just luck, and Sportacus isn’t in the right place at the right time.

Robbie, however, might be.

Today, the plot is simple. Sportacus can't resist a game of any kind, particularly if it has something to do with sports, so Robbie has set out a set of pins and a bowling ball in the court, while he waits behind the wall with his machine, both hidden from view. Sportacus, being the big dumb puppy that he is, sees the ball and immediately crowds around the chalk 'lane' that’s been drawn with the children.

Behind the wall, Robbie has to supress a giggle. Sportacus is practically out of the town already!

He hears the children argue over who gets to go first, but upon the discovery that the candy child has never bowled before, the kids all agree that they should wait for a turn and let Sportacus go first so that he can show the littlest one how it's done. Robbie has to hold back a moan of delight. Sportacus is going first! Robbie had hoped for it, yes, but he had never been foolish enough to _actually_ incorporate it into his plan - no doubt the children would've all vied to be first. Robbie had actually banked on Sportacus being _last!_ A charitable soul like him would of _course_ let the children go before himself!

As Sportacus sets up to the crudely drawn line that marks the bowling point, the kids step back to give him throwing space. Robbie can't believe his luck. This is going perfectly. He shuffles from foot to foot excitedly, now physically unable to stop himself from grinning.

As Sportacus brings his arm back, shiny blue bowling ball expertly held in the perfect position for a strike, Robbie presses the button on his newest invention. All Sportacus needs to do is stay still for two more seconds, just the time it takes to execute a perfect bowl, and Robbie will win.

But of course, Sportacus is never in the right place at the right time.

 

* * *

 

Sportacus steps up to the line that marks the start of the lane, unable to believe his luck. Usually he'd suspect foul play if a mysterious bowling lane appeared in the town over night with no apparent explanation, but Robbie Rotten is nowhere to be seen, and Sportacus can't see anything off about the lane itself - other than the straightness of its lines. Instead, it just seems to be a nice, normal bowling lane ready for the kids to play with. Sportacus makes a mental note to thank the person who made it, if he ever finds out who that are. What a nice person they must be!

The children stand behind him in a clustered circle, waiting to see Sportacus bowl. Their excitement makes him smile wider and he turns to set his eyes on the pins, calculating his bowl. He raises his arm and hears several small steps on the court ground as the children automatically retreat a little further, just in case, and the hero's lips quirk a little in pride. They've become so much more safety conscious since he came to town.

He adjusts his arm a little, lining up for the bowl, when a yelp comes from behind.

Stephanie gasps as Sportacus spins around, bowling ball falling to the ground. Ziggy lies on the floor with the others crowded around him, clamouring to see if he's alright. Sportacus immediately moves over to them and starts crouching down, trying to see if Ziggy's hurt, when someone screams.

Sportacus jumps, almost toppling over, but he catches himself on his palm and turns to see Robbie Rotten vault over the wall of the court, looking madder than Sportacus has ever seen him.

"You _idiot!"_ the villain screams, storming over to the bowling lane and jabbing an angry, accusing finger at Sportacus. "You couldn’t just stay in place for _five seconds,_ could you? Do you have _any_ idea-"

A strange sound cuts Robbie off and Sportacus watches the colour drain from the villains face as he looks down at his feet.

 _"No,"_ Robbie whispers in horror, staring down at the wonky chalk line, just as Sportacus notices something rising above the wall.

He opens his mouth to call out, to warn Robbie, but he's too late; whatever it is has fully risen and unleashed a bolt of energy, and Robbie is right in its path. Sportacus can't do anything. The beam hits Robbie like lightning before the hero can so much as gasp in shock and the only thing he can do is step back and protect the kids as he's blinded by the light.


	2. Chapter 1

When Sportacus opens his eyes, Robbie's gone.

He looks around frantically - maybe Robbie managed to get cover in time, or maybe he ran away while Sportacus was incapacitated by the light.

 _'It's not possible,'_ his brain insists, _'you saw the beam hit him.'_

He ignores it and keeps looking. Confused, the children do the same, searching even while rubbing at their eyes to disperse the lingering black spots swimming around their vision.

Sportacus can't see Robbie anywhere, a thought that terrifies him as much as it relieves him; maybe Robbie just ran and hid, or went home - (or maybe he didn’t escape at all) - but then he spots a crumpled heap of clothes lying in the exact spot where Robbie had been when the beam hit and his heart stops.

His hand flies up to cover his mouth as he inches closer. He doesn't want to look, he really, _really_ doesn't, but he has to. He needs to _know,_ and he needs to do so before any of the children get close enough.

They're obviously Robbie's clothes, the purple and maroon pinstripes that Robbie loves so much are clear as day. As Sportacus nears he can see something inside them though - a tiny arm sticking out of the neck of the navy under-sweater. His horror is briefly overtaken by confusion; that looks like a child's arm, but what-

Suddenly the pile of clothes moves and an awful shriek pierces the air, sending Sportacus a good foot back as he and the children jump.

The shriek turns into a loud wail and sobs can clearly be heard under the shuffling pile of clothes, getting more and more frantic as whatever it is struggles within the confines of the fabric.

Sportacus is instantly moving forwards again. No matter _what_ just happened, he can't ignore the cry of a child - and that's clearly what this is -  especially one in distress.

He skids to his knees in front of the clothes just as a tiny red face emerges from underneath the waistcoat's bottom, wild black curls stuck to its face from tears. When it catches sight of Sportacus the poor thing bursts into tears again, and even the Elf's most basic instincts have a bit of a stutter because _this_ is Robbie, this child crying in a pile of crumpled clothes is _Robbie Rotten._ His shock only lasts a second, the urge to comfort kicking in and he automatically scoops the child into his arms, the clothes falling away as he's lifted up. The little one wriggles in Sportacus’s grasp, apparently undecided on whether he wants to give in to the touch or get away.

After a few minutes of sobbing and half-hearted escape attempts Robbie collapses against Sportacus's chest, his little legs giving out under him as he cries.

“It's alright... Robbie,” Sportacus says, a little hesitant to use the name even if this is actually Robbie. “It's okay.” He strokes the hand holding Robbie to his chest down the baby's tiny back whilst the other one pets at his soft curls.

The kids keep their distance, confused and scared by what's happening.

“Did he just call that baby Robbie?” Ziggy asks in a loud whisper.

“I- I think so,” Stephanie replies, shock clear in her voice. She manages to be quieter than Ziggy, but Sportacus's ears hear every word.

As much as he wants to comfort them, try and explain as best he can, it’ll be a lot easier to do when Robbie isn't crying so he concentrates on the child in his arms, soothing him with small reassurances and hushing sounds as he rocks him back and forth.

Eventually, Robbie quiets to small sniffles and whimpers. Sportacus just holds him even closer. For all he and the kids are scared and weirded out, Robbie must be terrified right now. He can't be more than two, and Sportacus doubts he’ll have any understanding of what's happening right now. Not unless Robbie's regained-kept the mindset of his older self, which, judging from the way the toddler is clinging to him, he has not.

When Robbie's calm enough Sportacus makes a move to stand. The motion draws a small wail from Robbie and Sportacus automatically freezes until Robbie settles again. His eyes are already slipping closed - the past ten or so minutes have been horrendously stressful - and Sportacus desperately hopes he’ll go to sleep. It will give him time to think.

He rocks Robbie where he stands and after a few moments his eyes close fully, long, dark eyelashes settling against his reddened cheeks.

He turns slowly to the kids, not surprised when Ziggy is the first to approach.

“Is Robbie okay?” he asks, as quietly as he can.

Sportacus blinks in surprise. Then again, Ziggy has always been the most adaptable when faced with new situations or changes, and is sometimes even quicker than Stephanie on perceptivity. Even now it still takes Sportacus off guard, though it probably shouldn’t.

“Yes," Sportacus says, "but he is very worn out."

“What happened?” asks Stephanie, at the same time Pixel steps forward and asks, “is that really Robbie?”

"Yeah," Trixie chimes in, "is it?"

“Why is he a _baby?”_ Stingy questions, frowning suspiciously at the child sleeping on Sportacus's front.

“I- I don't know” Sportacus admits, “not completely. I think that machine was meant to turn me into a baby, but Robbie got hit by mistake.”

“Oh.” The kids look at each other with various degrees of unease.

“Can you turn him back,” asks Trixie eventually.

Sportacus bites his lip. “I don't know.”

“Will he do it on his own?” Stephanie.

Sportacus shakes his head. “I don't know.”

The kids exchange worried glances and Ziggy begins to tear up. Stingy puts an arm around him.

Sportacus shifts Robbie slightly, putting a little more weight on his hip. “Look, kids. I know it's hard when an adult doesn't know things, because then it seems like nobody has any answers at all. But I'd rather admit that I didn't know than lie to you.” He rocks Robbie gently from side to side and sees some of the kids nod. “It's okay not to know things and to admit that. It makes things harder in this case, but we'll figure things out,” he promises. "None of us have any answers at the moment, but we will."

Then he looks at the toddler in his arms and sighs. “Robbie as he is right now is more important that trying to figure out how to turn him back to normal. I want to get him somewhere comfortable and clean him up a bit first.”

“And get him some clothes,” Ziggy pipes up. "He's _nakey,”_ the boy giggles.

“Yes," Sportacus chuckles, “we’ll get him some clothes too.” Speaking of. “Stephanie, can you get Robbie's old clothes for me?” he nods his head at the crumpled pile on the court floor.

“Sure.” She goes over and scoops them up.

“We’ll take him to his lair,” Sportacus says. He hopes that it might help Robbie feel a bit better to be surrounded by his own things, even if he might not see them as familiar yet. “We can get a drink down there and make a plan.”

The kids perk up a bit at the prospect of a drink, since knowing Robbie and his dietary preferences it’ll be something sweet and sugary. Sportacus isn't entirely comfortable with the prospect of rooting through Robbie's cupboards but it’ll help the kids calm down a little bit, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

 _'It is safe to say,'_ Sportacus thinks, _'that this counts as a desperate time.'_

 

* * *

 

 

It doesn't take long for them to get to Robbie's lair, but it does take them a while to get _in_ it. There's no back door that Sportacus knows of so the pipe is their only method of entry, and it's extremely difficult to get five kids and a toddler down it without some sort of injury. They do manage, but it takes them a while.

Sportacus has to go first; Robbie protected in the firm cradle of his arms as he slides down. He’s the only one able to land perfectly, so it's safe for him to do it.

He sets the slumbering Robbie down in the orange armchair and then returns to the base of the pipe to catch the kids as they come down one by one, making sure each child is well clear of the pipe before he calls up for the next one. When Trixie, the last to come down, is safely set on the floor, Sportacus turns to the rest of the kids.

Unsurprisingly, they've circled the chair and are staring down at the sleeping child nestled in the fluff - All except for Pixel, who seems to be fiddling with something on the side of the chair's arm. Something clicks, and suddenly the chair elongates, the bottom of the chair raising as the back sinks down, until the chair looks more like a furry sun-lounger than an armchair.

 _'Well,'_ Sportacus reasons, _'it certainly makes sense that Robbie Rotten would have a recliner. At least now there'll be less chance of Little Robbie falling off now.'_

Really, he should find somewhere more suitable for Robbie, but for now the recliner will do. Plus, the presence of the clearly well-used chair makes Sportacus doubt the presence of an actual _bed_ in the lair, which is an uncomfortable thought.

Sportacus is just about to give thought to the drinks he promised when he spots something wedged between the cushions of the chair. Frowning, he leans down and pulls out a square of fleecy purple fabric about the size of a large-ish throw pillow. Sewn to one side is a smaller orange square with an embroidered cow on it. It's clearly Robbie's.

Sportacus smooths out some wrinkles and then very carefully wraps it around the sleeping Robbie on the recliner. Almost instantly, a tiny hand comes up to grasp the corner before being tucked back under the child's chin. Sportacus can't help but smile at the sight.

He tasks Pixel and Stephanie with watching over Robbie while he goes in search of drinks. Of course, they take it very seriously, just as he knew they would, each stood by an arm of the chair with an eagle eye on the sleeping toddler while the other kids take a seat on the big orange rug.

Robbie has a lot of cabinets and odd storage cubbies around the lair, but Sportacus sticks to the ones in the little kitchenette space in the corner. Though every single one is full of little mechanical odds and ends, he finds the cupboard with Robbie's mugs in, along with a frankly alarming sized tub of hot chocolate powder. Grimacing, he fills the nearby kettle, turns it on, and starts pulling out mugs.

“That one's mine,” Stingy calls, pointing to a mug with the symbol for Icelandic coins all over it. He's immediately shushed by Stephanie as Robbie twitches in his sleep. Sportacus just rolls his eyes and reaches for the mug. Of course stingy knows the symbol for krona. He gets out a mug for each of the kids and sets them all in a neat row, as well as one for himself. It turns out that Robbie also has quite the collection of tea; several little boxes stacked behind the hot chocolate tub.

To his delight, most of them actually seem to be healthy. There's some chamomile, some peppermint, and some of those odd but creatively flavoured ones like 'Liquorice and Blackcurrant', and 'Cherry Bakewell'. He steers clear of those, instead picking a raspberry and mango one out of a mixed-pack (unsurprisingly the fruity ones are untouched,) and sets it in his mug; one with a large gear on it. Then goes to Robbie's fridge and pulls out a couple of carrots.

“Why does Robbie have so much sportscandy in his fridge?” Trixie asks suspiciously and Sportacus flushes.

“I _may_ have been sneaking some down in the hopes that he’ll eat some," he admits with a wince.

Stephanie rolls her eyes and Trixie snickers.

Sportacus ignores them both, cheeks pink, and turns back to the mugs. He spoons four teaspoons of chocolate powder into each, as per the instructions, and when the kettle boils he fills each one up and stirs it thoroughly.

The kids get out to crowd around him and he hands out their mugs while his tea steeps. It's still a little weak, so he takes his mug - bag and all - over and sits on the rug with everybody else.

There's silence for a few moments, the only real sound the occasional sip or slurp of a drink, or the crunch of a carrot. Finally though, Stephanie pipes up.

"What are we going to do, Sportacus?" she asks, carefully. She might look to him for guidance in this, but at least she knows he's as relatively clueless as they all are.

"I'm not sure," he sighs, frowning into his mug. The water inside is slowly turning a darker pink. He thinks for a moment. He might not have answers, as such, but there are always steps. He just needs to figure out the next steps, get the priorities sorted, and then he can try and begin to figure out some actual answers. He needs to get organized. "We need a list," he says after a minuet, "sometimes it helps to write things down."

Luckily, Stephanie has her bag with her today and produces her diary and a pen. “We can use my diary," she says.

Sportacus smiles. “Thank you, Stephanie. Since we don’t know how long it will take to turn Robbie back," he tells the children, "we need to find ways to take care of him in the meantime."

"As a baby?" Ziggy asks.

"Yes. We could find a way by the end of today, or it could take a week. We don’t know, and little Robbie needs to be comfortable either way, just in case. So, we should be prepared." Sportacus rubs a thumb over his chin, thinking. "We need food for him, and somewhere to sleep," he starts, and Stephanie dutifully writes them down.

"And clothes!" Ziggy pipes up.

"And clothes," Sportacus agrees, stifling a chuckle. "He will need clothes to sleep in too, I think."

“I think we should handle sleep first,” Stephanie suggests. "Since, you know," she shrugs a shoulder in Robbie’s direction, “he can't sleep in that chair forever.”

“When's he gonna wake up?” Pixel asks, peering over the foot of the recliner. Robbie is still curled up under his little cow blanket, snoozing away.

“I'm not sure," Sportacus says, "he's had a stressful day and all that crying has tired him out.”

“My little sister sleeps all the time,” Trixie tells them, “but Robbie's older than she is so he might sleep less. She's just a baby.”

“He still needs somewhere _proper,”_ Stephanie reminds them.

Sportacus nods. "Yes. He’s fine in the chair for now, I think, as long as someone's with him, but you’re right.”

“Can’t you just take him up to your ship and he can sleep there?” Stingy asks.

“No," Sportacus says immediately, shaking his head. “It's too dangerous to get him up and back down again. I don't have a bed for him up there, and everything's activated by buttons on the wall or the floor. He could hit something by accident and get into trouble. Plus, Robbie’s afraid of heights - I don’t know whether or not he will still have that fear as a child but I do not want to risk it, he's already had a scary enough day. He doesnt understand whats happening right now. Plus I thought it might be better for him if he stays in his own home."

“Are you staying down here too then?" Trixie asks, head tilted.

"I- I guess?” Sportacus offers. It doesn’t really seem like he has much choice to be honest. Not that he minds of course, not really.

“Well where are _you_ gonna sleep?" The pigtailed girl demands, "does Robbie even have a _bed?”_

Sportacus winces, eyes drawn to the recliner. “I really don't know. If he doesn't, I- I'll just bring down a sleeping bag from my ship.”

“I'm adding bed for you to the list then as well then,” Stephanie says firmly. "You said yourself; we don’t know how long this could take. You are not staying in a sleeping bag _all_ that time!"

Sportacus manages a smile for her. It's sweet of her to think about that but… this is already going to be quite an expensive day. Sportacus only has so many savings from his pay as a hero - more than others, sure, because he is able to live in his ship instead of having to pay for accommodation for the duration of his time in a town - but it still won't be enough to buy everything, especially not if they add big things like beds. One child's bed is obviously necessary, but a second, adult bed? That might tip the scales too far.

“You can order one from the internet, or by phone,” Pixel suggests, oblivious to Sportacus's worry. “Both have really fast delivery here, you can get it by tonight at the latest. And I have money, so I'll pay for everything.”

Or maybe not so oblivious after all.

The rest of the group looks at him, confusion and surprise across their faces. The boy shrugs. “I make a lot of stuff," he says offhandedly, "I've sold some of the little things, the little time-passers and stuff, and gotten patents for others. It’ll be nice to have something to spend it on other than games and mechanics parts anyway, and I want to help.”

"You will not pay for everything," Sportacus states, leaving no room for argument, "but if you wish to help then I won't stop you. It is unbelievably kind of you to do that Pixel."

“Okay,” Pixel shrugs, a little embarrassed, "cool."

“Well, um, that sorts out the beds," Stephanie says. “Next is food.”

Ah. Food.

"He has teeth so he can eat solid foods," Sportacus hazards, "I think. Nothing too hard though. Like soft potatoes or berries."

“So you think he'll eat sportscandy like this?” Ziggy asks.

Sportacus tries not to pull a face. He was thinking the same thing. As wrong as it feels to feed Robbie something Sportacus _knows_ he hates and wouldn't ingest if his life depended on it when he was older, he cannot and _will not_ feed a toddler cake and sweets as a diet.

“He might. But I don't want to do that if I don't have to," he says. "Robbie will be very, _very_ mad at me when he grows back up. That's if he remembers, anyway. We should try to find something else first."

Trixie, however is a life saver. “You can have some of my little sisters food," she offers, nose wrinkling, "it stinks and I think it's gross but mum says that's what babies eat.”

“That could work," Sportacus nods, "Thank you Trixie, that’s nice of you.”

“I can also get some diapers," she adds, "I can't get any clothes or anything though, she's littler than Robbie is.”

“I can go shopping,” Stephanie offers instead, “when Uncle Milford finishes work we can go then and get him some clothes, and maybe some more food. My uncle knows what babies eat too I think, my parents lived here when I was born so he helped take care of me for a few years before we moved.”

“What can I do?” Ziggy asks, excited to help.

“You can come with me and my uncle if you want," Stephanie says. "You can pick some toys out since I dont think Robbie really has anything to play with around here.”

She and the other kids look around the room. Everywhere is filled with mechanical debris and electrical do-dads and tools. Definitely not anything for little children to be playing with. Sportacus hadn’t thought of toys or anything like that - which, is actually a very important part.

Ziggy lights up, bouncing in place. “Yeah! I can do that!” he shout-whispers.

"We'll need to clear this place up as well," Sportacus says, and Stephanie adds it to the list. "I know Grown-Up Robbie won't want me touching his things, but… right now it's far too dangerous for him to be anywhere near this stuff."

"That'll take ages," Trixie says, frowning.

"I know," Sportacus says. He's already dreading it.

"I'll see if Uncle Milford can ah, Robbie-sit for a day," Stephanie says, making a note, "then you don’t have to try and watch him at the same time."

"And we'll help you!" Trixie vows, "right guys?" She waves her arms at the others and they all agree whole-heartedly.

When the agreements taper off, everyone is reluctant to break the resulting silence.

Pixel, bless him, is the one to bring up the one item not on the list.

“I can have a look at the machine,” he offers quietly, “see if there's a way to turn him back.”

Sportacus had left the machine where it was in the main court. Everyone in the town knows not to touch Robbie's inventions, so he knows it'll be safe there.

“I'll go with him,” Stingy announces. “I have a truck to move the machine if it needs to be taken somewhere, and it's _mine,_ so _I_ will have to drive.”

“Thanks Stinge,” Pixel beams, nudging the other boy with his elbow.

“That's an excellent idea Stingy," Sportacus agrees, "thank you.”

“I'll come back later to help you order a bed,” Pixel tells him, "if I think it's going to be a quick fix then I won't bother, but if not then… I'll come back once I know."

Sportacus nods. He can’t ask for more than that.

The two kids drain their drinks and head off up the pipe - Pixel, kindly enough, puts their empty mugs in the sink before he goes to give Stingy a leg up.

“Right then,” Trixie stands and dusts off her trousers. “I’m going to go see my mom and ask if we can have some stuff. Pinkie, you and Ziggy should come with me. Then you guys know what I've already got and you can wait for the Mayor to finish work so you can go shopping.”

“Alright,” Stephanie nods, standing to put her diary away. “Sportacus, you can see if Robbie has a bed whilst your down here.”

Sportacus smiles. Look at them taking charge like this, he's so proud. “I will."

The three of them leave, the two girls helping Ziggy up the pipe, and when the pipe's hatch has been shut behind them and he can no longer hear their footsteps, Sportacus shuffles closer to the chair.

He leans on crossed arms against the arm of the chair, looking at Robbie. The redness has faded from his face now and he looks practically angelic.

He feels bad that all the kids are off doing things for him and he's sat there doing nothing, but right now he just needs a moment.

Robbie is a child.

A little baby boy with seemingly no memories about who he is- was- no, _is._ Will be?

Sportacus buries his head in his hands. This is so confusing.

He has no idea if he’ll be able to get Robbie back to how he was. The machine might not work, and if it doesn’t then they can’t rely on Robbie just changing back naturally. If he does, how long will it take? Weeks, months, years? What if he never gets back to the way he was?

A sob leaves Sportacus's throat without his permission and he holds a hand to his mouth to stifle any more. He doesn't want to wake the sleeping child in front of him.

Sniffing, he wipes the tears from his eyes. Crying won't do any good at all, and it’s not going to make him feel any better if he dwells on what might happen - or at least, on the bad side of things. If Robbie never changes back then sure, Sportacus will miss him. Of course he will, but Robbie _is_ still here. It’s not like he’s _died,_ he's just… younger now. And if he stays like this then he’ll grow again and Sportacus will stay with him, looking after him. He’ll get to see Robbie like he was again, one day, he just might be a little different - upbringing has a big impact on personality after all.

Sportacus shakes his head. Whatever happens, if Robbie changes back or he doesnt, if he grows up the same or differently, he’ll still be Robbie no matter what and Sportacus will still love him, just a little differently than he used to. No matter what happens in the future, Sportacus will care for Robbie now as best as he is able.

With that in mind, Sportacus gets up and goes to make another cup of tea. A lemon one, this time.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 things!!  
> 1.) The weird tense around things to do with robbie, both young and, well, older? Equal parts me not knowing how the frick tense works in this situation and sport not knowing how the frick tense works in this situation. It'll sort itself out in later chapters. (hopefully)  
> 2.) Considering I did a whole year of studying childrens speech and development for my english a-level I don’t remember a darn thing of it, so if what robbie can say is completely inaccurate I apologise. Its lazytown - lets blame it on magic and robbies genius.

The tea helps calm him, and after ten or so quiet minuets Sportacus pulls himself together enough to have a quick look around the lair. He's never really seen the place to be honest - he may have snuck down to fill Robbie's fridge with healthy food every so often but it’s not like he ever took the time to give himself a tour. It was a very in-and-out operation. Now though, he might have to spend a while down here. It’s best he get acquainted with the place - especially if he needs to make it child (and Elf) friendly.

He’s loathe to leave Robbie alone on the chair but he doesn’t want to risk waking the toddler by lifting him up and taking him with him, so he lets the boy sleep and just tries to keep him in his sight as much as possible, which makes his exploration tricky.

Luckily, most of Robbie's things are in plain sight. Aside from the little kitchenette, and the huge disguise machine and accompanying balcony, Robbie's lair is actually quite empty. There's a lot of clutter, yes; bits and pieces of old electrical things and scrap metal lying about, but there really isn't a lot of furniture. He has his chair of course, and the rug, side-table and lamp, but other than that there's just a couple of large work tables and shelving units and that appears to be it. It actually quite upsets Sportacus, in a way.

Truth be told, the place reminds Sportacus of his own home - his ship. Pretty much everything he owns is in one room and Sportacus is very careful because of that; he owns very little and has to think very hard if he has the opportunity to gain something new. Often he'll get rid of something in exchange. He doesn’t have any furniture that isn't built in, like his bed and a couple of multi-purpose stools - which he often uses as gym equipment. He doesn’t even really keep _food_ in there, aside from sportscandy and some bread. There just isn't room.

But then, Sportacus had chosen that. The ship wasn’t meant to be a home as such, just somewhere to live whilst he travelled. A two-in-one unit. It's perfect for travelling between towns, staying for a week or so and helping before moving on to the next, but a hero with a permeant town usually looks for an actual residence of some kind. So far, Sportacus has been happy with just his ship.

Robbie's lair is much bigger than the airship, it’s a proper _home_ but… there's just less here than Sportacus thought there would be. The clutter makes it look so much more filled. Sportacus bets if he cleaned the place up, it would seem just as empty as his ship, if not more so because of the extra space.

That saddens Sportacus, just a little. Then again, this is also Robbie's choice. Surely if Robbie had felt unhappy with his surroundings, if he wanted more things - or less - he would have changed that. It's Robbie's home, it will be how Robbie liked it.

Sportacus sights quietly to himself, shakes his head, and moves on.

The kitchen space is no surprise to Sportacus. There's a clearly modified microwave, a four-slot toaster and the kettle that Sportacus had used earlier sat on the counter, as well as a little pot that seems to be collecting used tea-bags, which, gross. He's already seen the multitude of mugs and teas of course, and the industrial sized tub of drinking chocolate, and he's completely unsurprised to find the rest of the cupboards filled with an impossible amount of baking supplies. Muffin cases and tins, cake pans and baking trays and blenders and mixers and moulds, and a whole double-cupboard dedicated to various ingredients. The other cupboards are filled with more junk food, mostly of the instant variety, along with several different sodas and sugar filled drinks. The freezer contains nothing but ice cream and frozen fries. The whole thing makes Sportacus feel a little woozy and he turns away space with a grimace. At least he still has the fridge full of sportscandy… but how much of that is still edible is still in question. Sportacus had grabbed a few carrots before but they hadn’t been in the _best_ shape.

He'll have to have a clear out - of the fridge at least. He doubts that Robbie will be very pleased to find all his food cleared out when he gets back to his usual age so Sportacus resolves to keep it all for as long as possible, but he will have to go food shopping at some point. There's no way an Elf and a small child can survive on… that.

The worktables are absolute chaos. Both of them are covered in tangled bits of wire and sharp metal scraps and filings, with large sheets of metal leant against the sides, waiting to be cut. Several tools are scattered throughout the mess, including at least eight different sized wrenches and a blow-torch - which Sportacus can't help but check is turned off. These are the remains of Robbie's latest inventing spree - the one that produced that machine. Sportacus knows this, because stood between the two workstations is a large classroom chalkboard on a set of wheels, detailing the whole plan.

It starts with the bowling lane, a set of white pins drawn in the top left corner the green board. A little chalk Sportacus sees the lane and is clearly overjoyed, tiny hearts and exclamation marks above his head.

Despite himself, Sportacus smiles. Robbie had him pegged.

Next, the chalk Sportacus, unable to help himself, stands at the start of the lane with the ball held aloft, ready to strike. He's being cheered on by a small chalk Stephanie and an even smaller chalk Ziggy. Above his outstretched arm however, is a drawing of a small remote with a large red button in the centre, a large 'X' above it.

In the next picture, chalk Sportacus doesn't look so happy anymore. His face is shocked, mouth a big black 'O' with his eyebrows drawn over his hat, as he's struck by the ray from the machine drawn in behind the court wall.

Sportacus's smile falls away. This is clearly where the plan diverges. In real life, the crying baby in the next picture, dressed in blue with his blond curls and his little pointy ears, doesn’t exist. Instead, there's a little boy with round ears and very wild black curls sleeping peacefully in his recliner ten feet away.

The chalkboard doesn't show what happens to baby Sportacus. Robbie's plans for him after he turned him into a child aren’t drawn, and Sportacus has no idea what they might have been. Get the kids to take care of him? Ship him off to an orphanage back home?

Sportacus has no idea. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Whatever Robbie's plans, they didn’t pan out, and now Sportacus has to deal with the aftermath of the failed attempt.

He flips the chalkboard over, unable to look at the crying blond baby anymore.

The other side of the board is covered in sketches of the machine, some detailed, some not. Most have accompanying notes though. Sportacus himself only has a very small knowledge of mechanics, necessary for the upkeep and occasional repair of his ship, the majority of which is guided by the AI - or the manual, if the AI is unavailable. He only really knows the basics, so all of this is absolute gibberish to him, but he knows it won't be for Pixel. When the boy comes back, Sportacus will show him these. Maybe they'll help him understand the machine a bit more, if not give him clues on how to undo its effects.

He makes a mental note, leaving that side of the board on display as an extra reminder and explores further.

There isn’t much more to explore though, from the looks of things. Most of the far wall is just storage; huge shelves that tower over Sportacus all filled with boxes. The ones on the right are all full of mechanical equipment, and spare parts, while ones on the left side are filled with scraps of fabric or old, partially torn clothes and disguises, with smaller boxes of thread, needles and sewing supplies down the side. There are also thick bolts of fabric attached to the wall, with lots more rolls of fabric on boxes underneath. The ones stuck to the wall are Robbie's signature colours; purple, maroon, black and gold, and therefore the most used ones.

Until now, Sportacus didn’t realise that Robbie must have made his own disguises, if not many of his own clothes too. He knew Robbie was a talented sewer and was incredibly creative when it came to fabric and knitting and such, but… clearly he's been underestimating him. The left side of this wall seems like something you’d find in a professional tailors shop. This is clearly more than a hobby to Robbie - perhaps even on the same level as his inventing and engineering.

There's also space on the right side of the shelves, but that houses one of those work tool holder things that Sportacus has seen in DIY stores and on TV, or in Pixel's garage, the ones with all the tools outlined in white - or gold, in this case - in order of type, and then size. This one is mostly empty, most of the tools spread out on the workbenches. The workbenches… which actually appear to be movable, Sportacus realises. He looks back over to them and, yes, the bottoms of both are slightly off of the floor. They must have wheels underneath them, and hopefully a brake. There are scuffs on the floor under the tool station, inside a large ring of dust exactly the size of the benches; these must be where Robbie keeps them, then, when he's not using them.

_If_ he's not using them. Sportacus doesn’t actually know what Robbie _does_ do when he's not inventing and scheming ways to get him out of town. Apparently making clothes? Or is this all just for his disguises, which are part of his schemes. Does- _did_ Robbie actually do anything else?

Uncomfortable, Sportacus turns away and head's back over to the other side of the lair.

Luckily, the recliner swivels, so Sportacus is able to gently turn it until it faces the other way. Now it'll be much easier to keep an eye on Robbie while he investigates the balcony.

Most of the space underneath it is just pipe-work, no doubt suppling energy to the disguise machine above, and likely water and heat to other places in the lair as well. There's some space for storage, but not much, so Sportacus doesn’t bother with it. Instead, he walks up the stairs onto low balcony, investigating the huge machine it houses. He has no idea how it works, or what it really does aside from apparently display some of Robbie's disguises, and for that reason he's afraid to touch anything - even the organ. Not that he knows how to play that anyway.

The machine has a few drawers under it that contain more clothes and fabric, as well as two spare sets of Robbie's usual outfit, but other than that, nothing. Nothing that Sportacus could understand anyway. There could be more to it, but he's genuinely afraid of blowing something up or something, so he ends his exploration of the disguise keeping machine and heads back down the balcony stairs to check on Robbie.

That's when he spots the doors.

Sportacus pauses on the stairs. Instead of being built into the wall - or at least built right up against it - like he'd thought, the balcony is actually a foot or two away from the back of the lair, leaving a narrow corridor behind it. There are two closed doors, both right next to each other, at the back of the lair; neither noticeable if you’re not standing on the balcony itself.

Curious. Before he goes to investigate, Sportacus takes a quick peek over the balcony railing to check on Robbie. Luckily the chair swivels, and having turned it to face the back of the lair while he explored Sportacus can easily see that the toddler is still sleeping soundly. He vaults over the railing.

The first door opens into a bathroom - and a surprisingly large one at that. It had both a shower and bath, both of which were quite large, as well as a sink that was built into a unit along the left wall. It was decorated from floor to ceiling in black tile, aside from around the _huge_ ceiling height mirror above the sink - which was surrounded by white tiles - and featured a very large bath and a separate shower. There was another large, orange rug in the centre of the floor along with a matching bath mat, and purple and black accompanying towels. (All of which were embroidered with Robbie's customary 'RR'.)

Sportacus blinked in shock for a few moments. It’s funny, even though Sportacus had been so weirded out by the fact that Robbie didn’t appear to have an actual bedroom, he hadn't even given a thought to the man having a _bathroom._ He shook his head at his own silliness and stepped back out into the corridor, closing the door behind him. Honestly, of _course_ Robbie had a bathroom. Chuckling quietly to himself, he opens the second door.

The first thing he sees is boxes. Actually, that's pretty much the _only_ thing he sees; cardboard boxes stacked almost as high as the door itself. _'It must be some sort of storage closet,'_ Sportacus thinks, and goes to close the door again when he spots something through a gap between two of the boxes.

A bed.

It's covered in wires and computer-chips and a couple of boxes, but it’s a bed. _This_ is the bedroom, Sportacus realises, or at least, it _was_ , once upon a time. Now it pretty much _is_ just a storage closet.

Sportacus shudders. If thats the state of Robbie's bedroom it’s no _wonder_ the man was so cranky all the time. Even when it was quiet, he can't have been getting any real sleep anywhere else. And he _must_ have been sleeping somewhere else, seeing as this bed clearly hasn’t been toughed in months, or even years? Sportacus wonders how it got to that point, _why_ Robbie no longer sleeps on a proper bed. It's perfectly usable, from the looks of it, it's just covered in clutter.

He'll just have to tidy it up, if he wants to use it.

It's not exactly his only option, he can still get the sleeping bag, but he’d much rather sleep in an actual bed if he can. A sleeping bag is okay for a night or two, but he doesn’t know how long it’s going to take for Robbie to get back to his adult self. If he’s staying down in the lair for a while, he’s having a bed. (And since it doesn’t look like Robbie's been using it anyway, it’s not like he’s _stealing_ it…)

He nips back around the front of the balcony to check if Robbie’s still asleep - he is - then heads back to the bedroom and takes hold of the box highest up. He doesn’t exactly have anywhere else to store them - which, actually might have been Robbie's reason for keeping the room like this in the first  place - so he stacks them in the corridor, just past the bathroom door.

He doesn’t move all the boxes yet, only clearing a path through the door for now, as well as moving the couple of boxes that are actually on the bed. He’ll sort out the rest later, once everything else has been taken care of. He's just put the last box on the stack when Sportacus hears a creak. He's back around the other side of the balcony immediately, finding Robbie, now very much awake, sat up in the chair. He freezes when Sportacus spots him and shrinks back into the fur.

They stare at each other for a second, Sportacus mostly waiting to see if Robbie will relax a little bit. He doesn't. Instead the toddler continues to watch Sportacus with a frankly terrifying intensity. Sportacus eventually starts to move closer, keeping his movements steady and his body language open. He approaches Robbie as gently as possible and then, when he's close enough, he crouches down so he’s eye level, supressing the flinch that threatens when he realises that he’s the taller one of the two now. Robbie doesn’t tower over him anymore. Now, he barely comes up to Sportacus’s knee.

“Hello.” Sportacus says softly, giving Robbie his warmest smile.

Robbie doesn’t say anything, his little eyebrows creasing into a frown.

“My name is Sportacus,” he tells Robbie, even though he knows full well Robbie won't be able to say that yet. He’ll be able to come up with something, he’s sure. Robbie’s never had an issue with calling Sportacus anything other than his actual name after all.

“Bab?” Robbie asks eventually, looking past Sportacus to the disguise machine. “Babby?” he asks again, twisting his head to see over the chair arm.

“Your Pabbie isnt here Robbie,” Sportacus says. At least he doesn't seem to think that _Sportacus_ is his dad. That would be… rather awkward.

Robbie turns back around to glare at him. Sportacus can practically _hear_ the _‘no duh, sportadonk’_.

“Who dat?” Robbie demands, glaring at Sportacus. “Who?”

Him? “I’m Sportacus,” he repeats, “I'm…" he thinks, then remembers what Robbie had tried to trick him with once. “I'm you best friend.” Sportacus says before he can stop himself. Whoops. It’s a bit weird to introduce yourself as someone's best friend even though he’s never met him before. Then again, it’d worked on him.

Robbie looks at him a little suspiciously - and isnt _that_ an odd look on a two year-old - but seems to accept it, thank goodness. He supposes that it’s weird to announce yourself as a best friend for a child but children often refer to adults as friends or best friends if they don't know many children their own age, and it's not like Robbie will care or know how weird it is anyway.

“Fend?” Robbie asks.

“Yes,” Sportacus says. “Fend.”

“Fend,” Robbie says again, “fens.” It's almost like he’s rolling the sound around his mouth to see what it tastes like. Sportacus severely hopes that it's the _word_ friend that’s new to Robbie at this point, and not the concept.

He's not quite sure where to go from here. He doesn't have anything for Robbie to do, nothing for him to play with or look at. Luckily, Robbie seems to be very interested in the blanket he’s suddenly noticed he’s wrapped up in.

“Mine?” he asks, running a tiny hand over the cow stitched onto it.

“Yes,” Sportacus smiles, “that’s yours.” He points to the little cow. “Cow,” he states. “Do you like cows, Robbie?”

Robbie nods. “Ye.” He picks up the blankie to inspect it further, holding it up from a number of different angles, then suddenly slides off the chair before Sportacus can stop him and is _off_ , speeding around the lair with the blankie held around the back of his neck like a cape. Sportacus is so shocked he can't do anything but watch for a second, gobsmacked, at the tiny, _very naked_ child running around the lair like a super hero.

By the time Sportacus shakes himself out of his trance at Robbie's unexpected activeness, Robbie’s stopped, parking his butt down on the rug by the chair with his ‘cape’ fluttering around his back. He looks very impressed with himself.

“Does it make a good cape?” Sportacus asks, coming to sit next to him.

“Ye.” Robbie nods, stroking the edge of the blanket reverently.

_“Sportacus?”_ Trixie’s voice comes down the chute then, making both Sportacus and Robbie jump. Luckily, Robbie doesnt cry, though he does look scared.

“It’s okay,” Sportacus reassures him, “it's just Trixie. She's also a friend.”

_“Can you catch me?”_ Trixie shouts down. The sound reverberates throughout the pipes in the lair. Robbie still looks very wary, but he also looks interested.

Sportacus stands and cartwheels over to the chute, much to Robbie's awe, and sticks his hands out. “I’m ready!” he calls up. Trixie comes down the chute moments later and lands in Sportacus arms.

“Cool!” Trixie shouts, revelling in the thrill of the ride and at being caught. Sportacus smiles wryly at her and gives her a moment of being lifted before he lets her down. She pats him on the bicep, thanking them specifically for catching her, and shrugs the backpack she brought with her off her shoulders whilst Sportacus snorts at his own biceps.

Trixie hands Sportacus the backpack and he tugs open the zip. Inside is a couple of jars of baby-food, some plates and bowls and a sippy cup. There is also a bib, which Sportacus is very grateful for, and a _huge_ pack of wet-wipes.

“The nappies were really tiny so I didn't bring those" Trixie says, "Steph’s getting them anyway.”

“That’s fine,” Sportacus mumbles, busy looking in the bag.

Trixie looks past him to the chair, frowning when she find it empty. Then she looks down and sees Robbie peering up at her and grins. “Hey little man,” Trixie greets. “Nice cape.”

Robbie instantly smiles, and wow okay, that’s very cute. Thats very _very_ cute. It… it's actually hurting Sportacus a little bit.

“I like the cow,” Trixie says seriously, “it’s cool.” She joins Robbie on the carpet and he makes an excited noise, thrusting the blanket at her to show her the cow.

Trixie immediately swings the blanket around her own back. “Oh yeah,” she nods, “this is one super good cape.” She hands the cape back to a delighted Robbie. “My friend Ziggy _always_ wears a cape, so I know a good one when see it. He’s gonna love yours.”

“Sig?" Robbie asks, confused.

Trixie nods. “Yeah, kid. Ziggy.”

He points at Trixie. “Who dat?”

“I'm Trixie.”

“Who?”

“Trixie," she repeats.

“Wik,” Robbie tries, “wiks.”

“Eh, close enough,” she shrugs, smiling. "Good job kid, it's a hard one." She looks up at Sportacus. “Did you find a bed?”

“There's a bedroom behind the balcony,” he tells her, pointing. “It’s covered in stuff though, I’ll need to clean it off.”

Trixie gets up to go investigate, turning back when Robbie whines unhappily. He stands and moves to follow her, only to get scooped up into Sportacus's arms. For a moment, the hero panics. The action had been automatic and in the past, Robbie hadn’t responded well to touch at all. Younger Robbie seems to freeze for a moment before relaxing slightly in Sportacus's hold.

Sportacus feels himself relax as well. “Come on, we’ll go see too.”

_“Jeez,”_ Trixie says when they reach the bedroom. “Thats a lot of stuff.”

“I know,” Sportacus says unhappily.

“How much sleep did you even _get_ down here, Robbie?” she asks to the room before walking over to the bed and looking at all the random stuff covering it. “Do you have a box?” she asks Sportacus.

Sportacus shakes his head. “I didn't find an empty one.”

Trixie sticks her tongue out in thought, before disappearing. Sportacus wonders if Robbie will whine again but he seems engrossed in looking at the stuff on the bed. Sportacus lets him look but doesn't get any closer in case he wats to touch. There's no way he's letting Robbie touch anything on that bed - everything is small and electrical, it's an absolute baby hazard.

Saying that, he needs to baby-gate the balcony.

Soon Trixie returns, dragging an empty metal drawer.

“Where did you get that?” Sportacus asks warily.

“Pulled it out of the counter,” Trixie grunts, hauling it over to the end of the bed. “Put what was in it in the drawer next to it.”

“ _Trixie_ ,” Sportacus admonishes.

“Robbie can tidy when he gets back!” Trixie dismisses, sweeping some of the stuff into the box with her hand haphazardly. Circuit boards and wires and various little bits of machinery cascade off the edge like a waterfall.

Sportacus shuffles on his feet, fidgeting from side to side. He feels bad just standing there, watching Trixie work. He wants to help but to do that he has to put Robbie down, and he knows that the little child will make a beeline straight for the scraps.

Trixie doesn't seem to mind him just standing there but Robbie certainly does, wriggling in Sportacus's grip. He’s about to try and explain why Robbie can’t go help Trixie, dreading telling Robbie Rotten "no" no matter _how_ tiny he is - perhaps even _more_ , now that he is tiny - but Trixie comes to his rescue.

“Hey, little Robbie,” she says, “you hungry? You want food?”

Robbie stops moving and looks at her thoughtfully. He tilts his little head at her. “Fud?”

“Yeah,” Trixie confirms. “You want some?”

“Yeh,” Robbie nods.

Trixie glances meaningfully at Sportacus, who quickly gets the message and takes Robbie out into the main lair again. He picks up Trixie's backpack again and fishes out the jars of baby-food, setting them down so that Robbie can see.

“Which one do you want?” Sportacus asks.

Robbie inspects the jars carefully. One is orange, and one is green. He points to the orange one.

“Alright,” sportacus agrees, keeping the uncertain wobble out of his voice. The orange one is potato, sweet potato, and carrot. Robbie may love the colour orange at any age, apparently, but as an adult carrots had been Robbie’s number one enemy - aside from Sportacus himself. He really, _really_ hopes that Robbie doesn't yet know what carrot is. Or that the other flavours will mask the taste or make him think that the whole thing is a completely new one.

He heats it carefully in the microwave and then sits Robbie’s little bare butt - thank heavens for whatever indoor heating the lair has - on the rug. There’s no _way_ he's cleaning baby food out of the fur of that chair, especially when it's the same colour and therefore invisible. He’d be finding it for weeks.

He puts the bib Trixie brought around Robbie's neck and before the toddler can yank it back off, Sportacus scoops up a tiny amount of food onto one of the plastic spoons that Trixie brought and holds it up for Robbie.

Sportacus tries not to fidget as Robbie looks at the food, slowly preparing himself for an absolute tantrum. He really hopes this doesn’t go too badly, he has very little experience with this sort of thing and he doesn’t really want any of this thrown at him.

Incredibly though, it turns out that little Robbie has none of adult Robbie’s hatred of carrots - not when they're in this form, anyway - slurping the mushy mess off the spoon happily. (Logically, Sportacus knows that it's just warm, mushed up sportscandy and therefore completely nice and healthy and edible, yet it disgusts even him. He pastes on a smile and keeps up the ‘enthused’ feeding however.) Still, he refuse to give any indication of what Robbie’s actually eating, just in case.

Trixie comes through when the jar is half gone, lugging the box of bits behind her. She shoves it next to the door and saunters over, taking in Robbie and the jar. Sportacus sees her nose twitch with the effort not to wrinkle it, and the _very_ fake smile that she puts on her face.

“Mmm,” Trixie hums, “smells nice.”

Trixie is _such_ a good liar. It's not something that Sportacus would usually encourage, and he doesn't now, but he’s not about to _discourage_ it either. Not if it keeps Robbie eating.

The toddler in question grabs Sportacus's wrist in his little hand and swings it away from his mouth and towards Trixie.

“Wiks fud.”

Trixie almost, _almost_ gags. “Aww, sorry sproglet,” she forces out, “I… just had my tea before I came over, I'm not that hungry.”

Robbie looks dismayed, but tugs Sportacus's hand back towards him and clamps his mouth over the end of the spoon. Sportacus breathes an internal sigh of relief. So does Trixie, he suspects.

Robe cleans out the jar with minimal fuss and, surprisingly, minimal mess. All it takes is a quick wet wipe around the mouth and he’s pretty much done. Sportacus refuses to let himself think that this means Robbie will be an easy baby. He won't. That’s not anything to do with Robbie, it’s just that there’s no such thing as an ‘easy baby’. He’ll encounter something at some point. Sportacus is usually an optimist about pretty much anything, but he knows that if he thinks too positively about this early on he might not handle it as well if things get tough later, and he doesn’t want to blindside himself.

Pixel arrives as Sportacus wipes the last races of orange from around Robbie's mouth, sliding down the chute and landing easily with the help of some hoverboots.

“Boos!” Robbie shrieks, “boos!” pointing at the boots.

“Um,” Pixel squeaks, slightly terrified.

“Yeah little man," Trixie says, grinning, "Pixel’s got cool boots.”

“Boos,” Robbie demands, _“boos.”_

Nervously, Pixel edges closer. He clearly wasnt expecting a welcome like this, and hovers a few inches off the ground for Robbie’s interest. The toddler stares at them with great intensity and sticks his hand under the faint blue waves emanating from underneath them, screaming with delight as Pixel rises another couple of inches in the air.

“Woah,” Pixel quickly rights himself, floating over Robbie’s hand. “Thanks for the boost, uh, Robbie.”

Robbie doesnt reply, fascinated with the boots. Pixel hovers around for a few minutes to amuse him, having a great time showing off, and then pulls out a tablet and slowly descends to land and turns them off.

Robbie immediately sticks out his bottom lip and whimpers, and everyone prepares for a scream of the non-delighted version. Quickly though, Pixel shows Robbie the tablet.

“Hey, hey," Pixel says hurriedly, "do you want to pick out a bed?”

Robbie’s eyes widen, his interest in the boots pushed to the wayside for the time being as he looks at all the pretty pictures on the screen.

Everyone immediately lets out a sigh of relief, which Robbie ignores in favour of scrolling through down the tablet. Sportacus raises an eyebrow at the movement; he knew Robbie was good with technology, but at this age? Sportacus is impressed.

Robbie takes a few minutes to look through everything, which gives Pixel time to address the little naked elephant in the room. “So um, not that it’s a big deal," he starts, "I mean, he seems pretty happy as-is, but when are Stephanie and Ziggy arriving with the clothes?"


End file.
